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Day 2 Morning - Arrangements
“Doc.” Dorian looked up from the supply list. “Yes? “There’s a woman outside wants to see you.” “No patients til eight o’clock,” Adler checked his pocketwatch. Five thirty-seven. “Says she’s a friend ‘o’ yours. Seriously sweet lookin’. Name’s Mary…Mary Sue…” “Marisol.” “Yeah, that’s it.” “Thank yah.” Still clad in robe and slippers, he crossed the cargo bay. Dorian shrugged away the cobwebs of a sleepless night as he stepped through the open personnel door to find his former captain. Marisol stood shivering, wrapped against the morning chill as she waited at the ramp’s base. “Good morning,” he said. “What’s happened?” “A lot,” she answered. “I’ve heard things overnight. We need a new plan. You look like hell, by the way.” “The wages of sin,” he quipped as they started off at a slow walk from the boat. “But do tell.” “The Nuduba Sisters and Joe Donovan.” “Captured?” He was hardly surprised. Neither the sisters nor the gregarious, hard drinking Donovan were particularly effective at keeping a low profile. It made sense that if his chain were outed, they’d find themselves apprehended pretty quickly. “Killed.” “What?” Marisol stopped. “Not just killed, Dorian. Tortured, then executed. Bodies were found hog tied, fingernails removed, nipple and genital burns from electrocution, and a single round to the back of the brainpan. Somebody’s hard after information…or shutting it down.” Dorian nodded thoughtfully. “Certainly sounds that way,” he mused. “Any news of Russokova or the Nguyens?” Marisol shook her head. “In the wind. Dorian, listen. You still haven’t been outed. I changed my mind. You should stay here. With us. We can protect you.” “Ah don’t think that’s a good idea,” he replied. “Who knows what they gave up before they were killed?” “No new bounties on the cortex overnight,” she countered. “Look. A lot of people in this town know your name. You’ve spread your cards, taken patients…all the acts of a man with nothing to hide. You could keep that up. Hang a shingle. Build your practice.” “If Ah’m allowed tah live so long,” he said. “Look, from tha very beginning, nobody ever knew yah name or those yah commanded. But what they did know was that a group of browncoat terrorists kidnapped tha Adler boy from the custody of a squad of fine Alliance troops…” “…that you were in the process of shooting…” “That nevah seemed to make tha Alliance narrative,” Dorian replied. “Mah name did. As yah said last night, even the Feds can add two an’ two. Don’t know that Ah want tah be a simple lookup in tha directory when whoever this is sees four.” “Wait,” Marisol lifted a hand. “Whoever this is. You don’t think this is Alliance?” “It’s not their style, Marisol. They don’t waste a chance tah shame tha independents. They catch some low grade intel trader, they’re more like tah parade ‘em about. Executions? Torture? This got a different smell to it altogether. Seems like they’re piggy backin’ on Fed intel. Once warrants and bounties hit tha cortex…” She clutched his arm, the strength of her grasp surprising. “And that’s why you need to stay. Look…the Federales are awful jumpy. If you’re going through all the motions of building a normal life they don’t have time to look twice. Stay here. Start your practice. Announce your engagement…” Dorian stepped back. “Engagement?” “To Maria.” “Fah Christ’s sake, Marisol,” Dorian exclaimed, “she’s seventeen!” “We’ll let her marry at eighteen,” Marisol said. She folded her arms, tucked her chin as her eyes swept the dusty soil. “Maria…” she began…”you know how life is out here. There are girls who get married off before they’re sixteen.” “And?” “So she’s thought to be of marriageable age,” Marisol said the words as if they were a death sentence. “And she’s attractive.” “Like her mother,” Dorian asserted. “But where’s this going?” Marisol heaved a ragged sigh, then lifted her gaze. “We’ve already had to fend off proposals,” she admitted, “from older men. One in particular. He’s older than Paco and me. Has money, and power with the town council. His “proposals” were for awhile, just big money, growing bigger. But now,” she said, “he’s becoming threatening.” Dorian turned, his eyes locked to Marisol’s. “How so?” “Right now,” she responded, “he’s coming after our business. Slowing down our town permit renewals for the cantina…delaying shipments…that kind of nonsense. But he’s rich…and ruthless. Dorian, whatever he does to Paco and me doesn’t really matter in the long run. But a man like that…what he could do to Maria once he gets her behind closed doors.” She shook her head. “That’s what terrifies me. Now, your situation,” she continued. “I thought about this all night, Dorian. You could be safe here…with Maria. She’d be good for you, and I remember how you treated those women you frequented…” “Yah mean whores,” he couldn’t help but offer a wry smile. She gave him a pained look. “This isn’t easy for me, okay? I know from that past history,” she threw a frustrated gesture in the direction of town, “that you’d be nothing but kind to Maria. Paco wasn’t kidding at dinner last night. She really does have a crush on you.” “You know Ah love that girl and all of your fam…” He stopped, folded his arms, thinking fast. Marisol had laid her cards on the table…and she had a good hand. Though he had no inclination to take her oldest daughter as a bride, the appearance that it would foster, both locally and on the cortex, would likely dissuade any Fed interest, while eradicating the local pressures the Chavez house must be weathering. Time now to show his cards. “Alright,” he relented, “let’s say Ah’ll do this. We should make ripples in tha cortex right now. Know a good lawyer?” “Yes,” the clouds on her brow were lifting. “Good,” he nodded. “Get ‘im tah come see me here, before noon. Ah learned last night we’re leavin’ early. Ah’ve got solid patients right up til then.” “Okay.” “We’ll start some paperwork. But,” he added, “knowin’ this boat was tailed here doesn’t offer options. Til we know just who is trackin’ folk on mah contact chain, Ah need to stay away. Tha last thing Ah’ll do is lead that threat to your doorstep. When Lunar Veil leaves, Ah go with her. We’ll wait out the Feds or whoever else. Ninety days or so should tell tha tale, Ah think.” “So you’ll be in the black til then?” “Til Ah’m sure Ah’m in the clear. While we’re talkin’,” he said, “you oughtta send Maria around today. Whatever the motive, this is still her heart we’re playin’ with. She’s got tha right tah know mah mind.” “Okay,” Marisol agreed, before throwing her arms around him. “Thank you,” she kissed his cheek. “This could all work out really well.” “It’s not a bad idea, I’ll warramt,” Dorian said as he returned the embrace. “But we’re not finished. Last night…” ……………………………………………………………………………….. The shower was ice cold, perhaps a blessing, given his short night. Dorian toweled himself, then wrapped his waist as he stepped across the common bathroom. His first patient would come at eight o’clock, which left him just over an hour to finish his morning rituals and gulp down some blessed coffee. An arranged marriage. The magnitude of it hadn’t sunk in yet. “Maria Adler,” he whispered the name as the shaving cream brushed thick upon his face. That part he’d pretty much honor, though not necessarily for the reasons Marisol had in mind. More fodder for the lawyer…and a way to move funds from his accounts without a big neon federal transaction record following him about the ‘verse. The girl was beautiful…attraction would never be a problem. Yet, despite parental blessings and her own reported feelings, Dorian knew that Maria was deserving of a far better life than his. Placing her as beneficiary on his will would send the necessary public signals…and if things went South and this hunter actually found him, might just help her to realize that life. Someone was out there. Possibly looking for him, among others. Someone with the skills of a professional killer, the knowledge of torture tactics, and the sadistic zeal to leave their victims on display. The tactic made sense; frighten your quarries into making a hasty mistake. With no bounties attached to his name and two other contacts on the run, Dorian believed that he had some time to prepare before this new threat sniffed the air for his scent. “Keep to the black,” he muttered to himself. “Keep flying.”